Altered Carbon

Stay with me, Ortega.

- Hey! Hey, I'm talking to you. - I'm three feet away.

Where is Samir?

Don't worry about him. He's fine. Just concentrate on staying alive.

He took the hit for me.

Sit still or you're losing that sleeve.

- Oh, shit! - Fuck.

Hey, hey. Stay awake! Stay awake!

- Open your eyes! - I'm so tired.

Hey, talk to me. Talk to me!

Hey, hey, hey! Tell me about Ryker. Hey, tell me about Elias.

- He had the most open cases on the squad. - Yeah?

Drove me crazy.

Dumb and pretty, huh? Wouldn't have thought that'd be your type.

He wasn't dumb and you're not that pretty.

Kristen, we're almost there. Almost there. Hang on. Hey, hang on!

- I need some help here. - Put her finger on the scanner.

- That gonna stop the fucking bleeding? - You need to pay for services.

I'm sorry, but Miss Ortega has insufficient resources

for specialized treatment.

- Gonna let her die? - Of course not. We don't turn anyone away.

We'll help her as soon as we can.

I um... I just assumed that...

- Yeah. - Please. Right this way.

- Gonna be able to save her, right? - Her stack is intact.

The danger is to her sleeve. Her arm, it's too badly damaged.

We need to amputate.

However, we do offer a wide range of limb replacement models

for someone with your considerable financial resources.

These are our most popular options: biomech, gene-spliced,

cloned, or full mechanical.

Personally, I would recommend the Jager-Schuster model 16.

Reinforced titanium mechanical substructure

covered in a neurachem-enhanced cloned human skin.

Seamless interface with the patient's nervous and musculoskeletal systems.

And the real selling point: completely natural-looking.

Truly the best of both worlds.

Any interest in an extended warranty?

Offer me one more thing and I'll put your head through the wall.

Payment accepted. Congratulations...

Just fix her.

Your father mentioned that my design sense reminded him of antacid.

I thought we should vary the color scheme a bit.

I was in the black,

and the monsters turned my insides to red.

I cannot begin to imagine what was done to you in the real.

But I know something which might help.

Would you like to hit me?

What?

I don't wanna hurt you.

You won't.

Understand that in my making this offer, I can feel no pain.

It is not our enemies that defeat us.

It is our fear.

Do not be afraid of the monsters, Miss Elizabeth.

Make them... afraid of you.

Wonderful! Would you like to try again?

You want to get hit, I'll fucking hit you!

You must leave at once.

- Ladybug. - This is dangerous.

It's me. I'm here.

I was in the forest, Daddy. It was dark and full of monsters.

- I couldn't get out. Where were you? - I didn't know...

I screamed and you never came!

What the hell do you think you were doing?

- Did you see what just happened? - I certainly did.

You came in and disturbed her treatment when she was making progress.

Treatment? You were telling her to hit you, you sick fuck!

I am teaching her to feel safe again, defend herself, body and mind.

Vigorous self-defense curriculum,

paired with psycho-surgery and trauma therapy,

can be beneficial to survivors...

You're the hotel and the hotel is you, right?

Can you feel pain?

No.

But I can feel anger.

Come on, Tin Man.

I'm receiving notification from a local hospital.

Lieutenant Ortega has been injured.

Critically.

We're not done, Poe.

Locals.

Ultimately, they're all expendable.

- Kristin isn't. - First-name basis.

Bad sign.

I didn't say she was...

It's in the details. Don't tell me you haven't noticed a pattern here.

She's not gonna die.

That will be a change for you.

I won't let it happen.

Not this time, not ever again.

This is what you do, love.

Stride across the centuries, and death follows, churning in your wake.

That's poetic.

I'm a figment of your tortured psyche, I say what you're thinking.

A man who never loves gives no hostage to fortune,

to paraphrase a great scientist.

A man who doesn't love isn't really a man.

To paraphrase you.

Just... sleeve memory...

pheromones.

A ghost that belongs to...

To me?

That isn't who we were to each other, Tak.

Love isn't finite.

Maybe life shouldn't be either.

Maybe we should keep living, forever.

Maybe we all fought for nothing, maybe you died for nothing.

How is she?

She's in surgery.

Son of a bitch practically tore her arm off.

Your girl seems like a serious badass. She'll pull through.

- She's not my girl. - Right.

Wait, surgery? Why don't you just buy her a new sleeve?

- She grew up Neo-C. - Damn. She got religious coding?

No. She renounced it.

So then she could be legally resleeved, right?

Doesn't mean she'd want me to. She'd probably never forgive me.

Not the best time, Poe!

Nor for me. If Elliot is there, please tell him I'm not speaking to him.

- Look, you tell him yourself! - Obviously, I cannot.

What do you want?

I have information that may be time-sensitive.

After searching through a dizzying number of shell companies

and cover identities, I found the provenance you requested

for the paintings in Isaac Bancroft's apartment.

The buyer hails from Volgograd. He financed the purchases

deploying a shell company called Ural Syth Co.,

whose real owner is one Sergei Brevlov.

Sergei Brevlov. I know that name. He was at Bancroft's dinner.

Send me his address. I'm heading over there now.

So, your girl is being operated on

and you're still investigating for the bloodsucking Meth. Why do you even care?

I thought we already established that. I don't.

So Bancroft gets his killer,

you get your freedom, and nothing else matters?

Sergei was at the party,

so was the Ghostwalker that slagged Abboud and almost killed Kristin.

You coming?

Sure. Could use something to hit.

Well, this certainly inspires confidence in Bay City's finest.

I'm a little busy right now, Ms. Prescott.

Not too busy for me.

You have something that belongs to my client. He wants it back.

You go tell your client he can file a request through the proper channels.

I can see you're having a bad day, Captain,

so I'm gonna save you from yourself before you make it even worse.

If I have to file anything at all,

Mr. Bancroft will make this look like a picnic in the park.

You think you've seen blood? Wait until you see your own.

Metaphorically speaking.

What is it you're here for?

Mr. Bancroft's been informed you're holding a printed clone.

It is entirely unacceptable that any clone of his would be kept, well...

somewhere like this.

Davis, take Ms. Prescott to Evidence and help her with whatever she needs.

Don't take so long next time, Captain. My client doesn't like to wait.

Go ahead. She'll catch up.

What is this, a holiday and somebody forgot to tell me? Get back to work!

You wanna keep that hand? Don't touch me again. Ever.

You may work for them, but you're not one of them.

Don't talk to me like that in front of my people.

You're ground-born, just like me. We're the same.

Is that what you think?

We're not the same, Captain.

One of us is a powerless puppet being used by forces

that can't quite be comprehended.

And the other one is me.

What is it?

Found Levine in the basement, like Abboud.

Stack ripped out and crushed. It's RD'd.

Christ.

There were two attackers. Why am I only seeing one?

He deleted himself from the system.

The whole fucking system, which is not possible.

Our tech is designed to be tamperproof. But, hey, watch this.

- What the hell am I looking at? - I got a theory. Sort of.

When Ortega went to Bancroft's party, she might have scanned a few guests.

Yeah, of course she did.

But one of them didn't show up on her ONI.

The way he removes himself from the footage, the way he deletes himself,

it's similar. I can't be certain, but it's very similar...

Mickey, I got two dead cops and one torn to pieces,

so if you got a lead you'd better be certain.

I think it's the same guy. The Ghostwalker.

Why the hell am I just hearing about this now?

What the fuck have you people been smoking down here?

Anything we could get our hand on. But that's not the point. I thought... We thought...

Don't think, you hear me? No more thinking. That's a fucking order.

I'm streaming an arrest notification on Kadmin,

who, thanks to you, is in that gang sleeve running around the city.

Captain, when you see Ortega, will you just...tell her... tell her that I'm sorry?

Sit.

I suppose I should thank you, Hemingway, for sending Leung to save my life.

Now I have another chance to kill that fucking lying murderer.

His name is Kovacs, and he's an Envoy,

- and you are never to go near him again. - An Envoy killed my brother?

Please stop referring to your double-sleeved copy as your "brother."

It's inaccurate. And I hate inaccuracy.

Two hundred years we have been working together.